


strange trails

by Ejunkiet



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Oneshot collection, Vignettes, alternate universes: the science au, the one with the coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:42:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6999973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejunkiet/pseuds/Ejunkiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of vignettes and oneshots, spanning the daredevil and punisher series.</p><p>1) Karen Page had many talents, but making coffee wasn’t one of them.<br/>2) Sleeping with Frank is nothing like she expected it to be.  (Vignette)<br/>3) It wasn't about love. (Vignette part two)<br/>4) “Just stay out of the way, Red. This isn’t your goddamn fight.” (Vignette)<br/>5+6)  It’s not perfect, and sometimes they have bad days, where the experiments won’t work and Frank is barely talking, and Karen is on the verge of walking out. (alternate universes: the science AU)<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coffee dates

“Thanks, Frank.”

It’s late, and the sun has just set in a brilliant display of red fire behind the Manhattan skyline, the last dying rays of the day painting the streets crimson. Spring has entered the city and it brings with it a haze of heat, burning away the last of the fog that has shrouded its streets for the last month.

Karen Page lingers on the bottom step of her cramped little apartment block, haloed by the yellow cast of the streetlamps, a soft smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her heels are clutched in one hand, her stockinged feet incongruous against the harsh edges of the pavement, soft in contrast to the iron railings that line her stoop.

Frank shouldn’t be here, but he is, and he takes her jacket when she passes it to him, fumbling through her purse for her keys.

\--

It’s been a long night, made even longer when his stakeout had been compromised by none other than _Karen Page_ , industrious reporter for the New York Bulletin.

She’d gone to lengths to disguise her identity, he’d give her that. She’d bought a wig, or dyed her hair, he wasn’t sure – and seeing the fiery red under the dim cast of the streetlamps outside the seediest bar on the east side, he’d almost mistaken her for someone else, some unlucky civilian he’d have to keep an eye out for when the events of tonight went down.

There was no mistaking that profile though, or the mannerisms that were as much a part of her as the itch in his trigger finger, and he’d let out a curse, pulling away from the scope as he slipped back on the safety.

He still didn’t know what she was doing there, which story she’d been chasing dressed up like _that_. He’d begun this with the intention of getting her _out_ of there, taking her out of the range of fire, but somewhere along the way it had gone further, leading him right to her doorstep. Her home.

He doesn’t belong here. He doesn’t belong anywhere _near_ this neighbourhood and yet here he is, way out in the open like he wasn’t a wanted man with the deaths of over a hundred shit bags to his name.

Leading the wolves right to her door. Stupid. Rookie mistake.

Too late to fix it. He’s here, and there’s nothing he can do to change that now. The fact that the route had been clear, free from any indication that anyone else had made the association between her and the events currently unfolding in the warehouses by the docks means that they may have actually gotten away with it, too.

He'd say it was lucky, but he doesn't believe in luck.

He checks the corners anyway, the shadows beneath the stoops that line the street, the neighbouring roofs, fingers twitching towards the location of the pieces he’s carrying. If there was any trouble headed her way, he’d be ready for it.

“Frank?” A soft touch on his arm and he flinches back, gaze flickering forward to find – Karen, there in front of him, her teeth digging into her bottom lip as she pulls her hand back, bringing it back to her side.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shakes his head, once; it wasn’t her fault he’d been unfocused and lost track of the conversation. Too many nights of barely enough sleep must be catching up with him. He’d have to lay low after this, camp out in one of his base camps and recoup for a couple of days. “What is it?”

Her brow furrows. “I was just-” she breaks off as she reads something in his expression - and really, she shouldn’t be as good at that as she is - and lets out a long breath, the air gusting between her teeth. “You should come up. Have a coffee.”

“Coffee?”

Her lips curl into a smile at that and she glances down, composing herself. He can still hear it in her voice though, when she replies, _“yes._ Coffee. You should have some.”

She waits at the top of the steps, one hand propped against the door to hold it open and after another moment or two of hesitation, he follows her up.

–

Karen Page had many talents, but making coffee wasn’t one of them.

“How is it?”

He can thank his military training for his ability to hold a straight face, dropping his shoulders in a shrug. She lets out a small wounded sound as she guesses at the truth easily enough. “That bad? _Really?_ I thought for sure, this way…”

“What are you using?”

“Nescafé. It’s European?"

“Have you tasted it?”

She shakes her head, turning to grab a cup from the cupboard and pour herself a shot of ‘coffee’. Upon tasting it, she immediately grimaces and spits it out, dumping the cup into the sink. “Okay. Wow. Never buying that again.”

There’s a smile on her face, small and brief, hidden from view almost as quickly as it had appeared, and it warms something deep within his chest, something he didn’t think he had in him anymore.

He finishes the coffee despite her protestations and rinses out the mug, leaving it to soak in her sink as he collects his things and she bades him a good night from the doorway.

On the street outside, he stops to glance back up at the building and the faint amber glow he can see from her window. This is it, he thinks; never again.

It's a promise he won't keep.


	2. vignette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet.

Sleeping with Frank is nothing like she expected it to be. He takes it slow, breaking away to trail one hand in a long, slow ascent up her back as the other delves into her hair, clenching into a fist. The grip gives him enough leverage to tilt her head back, bring his mouth to her throat, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to the juncture of her jaw until she shudders and clutches at his shoulders, pulling him closer.

His touch is gentle, reverent; a harsh juxtaposition to the violence of his life, and she loses herself in the heat of the moment, however temporary.

She has no expectations that he will still be here in the morning. This entanglement comes with - complications, ones she’s not sure she’s ready to deal with.

Now, though - in this moment - she isn’t thinking about that. She isn’t thinking any further beyond the slide of his hand along her thigh, the hitch of his breath when she turns her head to bite at his neck.

In the end, the moment is brief and bittersweet. A soft kiss pressed to her temple, a murmured promise against the back of her neck. _Thank you. This won’t happen again._


	3. Vignette part two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't about love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation, of sorts.

It wasn’t about love. Not in the romantic sense at least, and if you’d asked her, she would have said that she didn’t think Frank Castle was capable of that kind of love, not anymore.

It wasn’t obligation, either. Their relationship may be intangible, near impossible to define, but it wasn’t driven by any sort of need or debt to the other. It wasn’t as complicated as that.

Empathy, maybe.

When you’ve lost as much as she has, maybe it would make some kind of sense.

(Her brother to an accident, her mentor and friend to the truth he’d uncovered- and now this, this last cruel twist of a knife buried to the hilt in her heart–

Matthew Murdock, the devil of hell’s kitchen; the lines between the two blurred until you could no longer tell where one ended and the other began–

– she’d always known that this would kill him.)

When you’ve lost as much as he has-

(She couldn’t even imagine.)

When it came down to it, if she had to put a word-a name-to what existed between them, all she could say was that there was a connection.

(But when he turns up outside her window, mottled with bruises and shirt dark with rain water and the evidence of violence, she still let’s him in.)


	4. lesson learned

The muzzle of the gun is cold against his throat, unfeeling; a harsh contrast to the anger that trembles through Frank as he adjusts his grip on the trigger and says, “We’ve been through this, Red.”

His hands aren’t bound this time, and so it’d be an easy thing for him to reach out and twist the gun from Frank’s grip, disarming him; but that’s not how he wants this night to go. Matt’s not interested in winning here; he needs to break through to Frank, get him to see reason. “That’s the difference between us, Frank. You’re more inclined to shoot first, ask questions later.”

Frank lets out a low, rough laugh at that. “If that were true, then you’d already be dead.”

“I told you, you’re making a mistake.”

“Just stay out of the way, Red. This isn’t your goddamn fight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vignettes cross-posted from my tumblr.


	5. alternate universes: the science AU (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> evilbunnyking asked: Based on the fact you're at that conference, how about a Kastle AU where Frank did ROTC and ended up in biological/medical R+D, working in a military lab somewhere or something? :'D

Frank begins his training as a medic, taking the ROTC pre-med requisites at the University of Maryland. He’s always been drawn to the military – his local pastor had been in the service, and he was the best man he’d ever known – and so there was no question that he would serve: it was only a question of how.

His highschool sweetheart Maria (who is now his wife) was awarded a scholarship at UMD, and Frank is smart, has strong, steady hands, and the ROTC is always looking for medics, and so he applies to the program, feeling as if this is what he could do to give his life meaning, to actually help, you know? And there’s this drive in him after 9/11 to get out there, and actually do something about it – and so he doesn’t think twice about fast-tracking his program, deploying before he’s even finished his degree in biomedical sciences, as practical experience would train him just as well as the books will.

It’s just before he leaves that Maria drops the bombshell: she’s pregnant. He nearly drops out of his deployment, screw the consequences – but she talks him out of it, explaining that they still had at least eight months, more than enough time for him to finish the first half of active service and come home for R&R. (He doesn’t agree, and they fight about it, tempers hot and firey until that passion turns into something else, something they can both agree on.)

The birth of his little girl is the happiest moment of Frank’s life.

–

Flash forward two years.

After his second deployment, Frank has two kids and has seen enough of the bloody results of bullets and warfare to last him a lifetime. He’s done with medicine, but he’s fascinated by the science behind it, and after he finishes his undergraduate degree, he gets awarded a biomedical research grant to undertake a master’s within the army medical research labs. It’s good work, and he’s good at it – he’s closer to his family, and he gets the opportunity to use his smarts for something more than plugging holes and stitching up soldiers, just to have them back the next day with more of the same. It’s not long until he’s offered a more permanent position, his grant extending to a doctoral studentship. The weight of this decision isn’t lost on him - it can’t just be his decision, not with a family - but Maria places her full support behind him, encouraging him to see this through.

It’s long hours and grueling work for the next few years, and his daughter is in middle school by the time he’s finishing his thesis.

One day, there’s a shooter on campus, and it’s the same day his family comes to visit. Through a series of random, unfortunate events, his family get caught in the crossfire, and everything rapidly falls to shit.

Frank learns about the attacks on the news, but doesn’t make the connection until it’s late, too late – Maria said she would make it here by three but now it’s turning six – and Frank gets a phone call that turns his world upside down and inside out.

He should have been there. _He should have been there._

Nothing is ever quite the same after that, and Frank moves departments, joining a group in Research & Development. He doesn’t know anyone there, and doesn’t want to – and after several months, his colleagues have learned to accept the fact that Frank works alone.

He puts in long hours, longer than most of the other members in his group, and rises rapidly through the ranks until he’s placed in charge of vector development and given his own sector of the lab to work in, quiet and undisturbed.

That is, until new management decides he needs his own post doc.

–

Karen is fresh out of college, smart and well-educated with a doctorate in bioengineering and zero-tolerance for bullshit. She’s the only one that makes it through the interview unscathed and in the end, Frank has very little option but to accept her within his newly formed vector core and watch as she carves out a small section of the lab to call her own.

She brings with her the novel strategy she’s developed for getting DNA vectors into cells, a combination of nanoparticles and electro-stimulation therapy that he has only ever read about in journals and never seen in action. Her work is a perfect complement to his, and he has to admit that bringing her in was a good idea, especially when she gets a combination of both of their systems working _in vivo_.

He takes her out for a drink that night at a bar just off campus, an old brewery that Frank used to frequent as a grad student, and Karen laughs when she finds his name carved into a plaque near the door, commemorating the completion of his hundredth beer.

It’s not perfect, and sometimes they have bad days, where the experiments won’t work and Frank is barely talking, and Karen is on the verge of walking out. The tension between them builds and builds, almost suffocating in their small, intimate lab space, and they have to call it a day, leave and go walk it off.

They’re both here for the same reasons though, searching for the answers and meaning that’s missing from their lives, and it doesn’t take long for them to realise that. It gets easier when they do.


	6. Alternate universes: the science AU (2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> evilbunnyking asked: Based on the fact you're at that conference, how about a Kastle AU where Frank did ROTC and ended up in biological/medical R+D, working in a military lab somewhere or something? :'D

The bar is relatively quiet for a Friday night, with just a few of the local government facilities represented, but it’s early yet and she doesn’t expect it to remain that way for long. The monthly interdepartmental happy hour is always a crowded event, and there’s cause for celebration tonight, as many of the research groups attending have heard back from the departmental review. With the guarantee of funding for another year, a weight has dropped from their collective shoulders, and she expects pretty much everybody to make it out.  
  
There’s a clatter from the entrance to the bar, the light tapping of a cane against hardwood floor, and she’s pleasantly surprised when she glances towards the door and sees Matthew Murdock make his way into the bar. He’s unaccompanied, cutting a sharp figure in a suit as he navigates the maze of tables and chairs with ease, and she smiles, calling out to him from across the room.

“Matt. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it tonight.”

He glances towards the bar, surprise written plainly across his face before his expression eases into a soft smile. “Karen Page. Mind if I join you?”

She glances at the empty seat beside her. “Please.”

Matthew Murdock props himself against the counter at her side, his cane tapping lightly against the lacquer of the bar top as he settles onto an empty stool. His hair is neatly combed, his suit pressed and his shoes polished, and if she were the type to get self-conscious, she might have felt under-dressed in the casual shirt and jeans combo that she’s been wearing since graduate school. It’s rare that she has an occasion to dress for anything more formal than a lab lunch, and sometimes she wonders what her life might look like if she’d taken a different path and entered the corporate world instead.

She’d be richer, most likely. Probably wear more skirts.  
  
Matt gets the attention of the bartender with two fingers against the bar, his dark glasses glinting in the low light as he places his order and turns to face Karen. He’s smiling – a smile never seemed far from his face - the fingertips of his free hand tapping an absent rhythm against his thigh as he says, "so. How are you faring?”  
  
“Good. It’s been a good day.” The good days were few and far between these days, so she’s enjoying it while she can. The large glass of expensive Merlot – the one she’s always wanted to try here – can attest to that. “I’m glad that this week is over.”  
  
Matt’s smile grows as he listens to her speak, picking up on her lighter mood in that way of his, the one she’s never quite figured out, as he settles back into his seat. "I heard on the grapevine that the results from your first cohort of animal were very promising. Good work.” He pauses as the bartender finishes mixing his drink and places it on the table in front of him. “Thanks, Josie. How are you finding Frank?”

She’s almost startled by the abrupt change of pace, but Matt was never someone to skirt around the difficult questions. As one half of the two-man team that made up their in-house legal representation – patenting mainly, and issues of security concerning confidentiality - ‘Nelson and Murdock’, it was in his best interest to be upfront. She takes another sip of her wine, considering the question.

“You’re asking me about Frank?” It’s not really a question, but Matt humors her by nodding anyway, a small smile tweaking the edge of his lips and she lets out a long breath, almost a sigh. “Frank is - good. Very good at what he does.”

“Hmm,” he hums, even as his lips quirk into a knowing smile. “But he’s not always the easiest person to work with.”  
  
“It can be difficult, sometimes.” She admits, frowning down at her glass. “But he’s passionate about what he does and the work we do together.”

She lifts her shoulders in a shrug, then remembers herself and says, “and that’s all that matters, really.”  
  
Matt lets out a low laugh, removing his glasses to rub at his temples as he admits, “you’re right about that. There’s no disputing that he’s the best at what he does, and you two work well together.”

He replaces his glasses and huffs out another laugh, his smile returning as he picks up his drink, resting the glass against his chin. “It’s impressive what you’ve managed to achieve in such a short amount of time.”  
  
She smiles, the tension slipping from her shoulders as she eases back in her seat, taking another sip of her wine. “Well, I’m pretty good at what I do, too.”  
  
Matt raises his glass in a toast at that and she laughs, tapping her wine glass against his gently.

They sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, letting the muted sounds of the other patrons wash over them, enjoying the drinks and the company. It’s been a long, exhausting week, and it’s nice to take some time out and get away from it all: the lab, her experiments; Frank, sometimes.

She glances over to where Matt is seated, a soft smile on his face, listening to the sounds around them, and asks him something she’s been wandering for a while. “How long have you known Frank?”

“Three years.” Her brows shoot up, surprised and caught off guard by his answer. From her conversations with Matt, she’d been under the impression that he’d known him longer: he was the only person who seemed to have any sort of insight into the man at all.  She’s been with this research institute for eight months, but even those in the group who’d shared bench-space with him for _years_ had never managed to establish a report with him, break past the thick layer of defenses he maintained. Even after spending the better part of a year in the same, small lab space, it had been a long, uphill battle to establish a working relationship.

“Frank Castle is complicated.” She glances back to see that Matt has turned to face her again; his expression creased into a light frown. “How much do you know about him?”

“Admittedly, very little.” She hesitates, thinking of a way to phrase what she wanted to say delicately. “I know about his family. We’ve never talked about it, though.”

“Don’t expect him to. He’s a hard man to get to know, but he has his reasons. Give him time.”

She lets out a breath, glancing down at her hands where they’re resting in her lap. “I’m trying.”

Matt smiles softly at that, that gentle smile again as he leans forward and carefully places his hand on her shoulder. “It’s not gone unnoticed. Trust me on that.”  
  
They fall into silence again as Matt finishes his drink, thanking Josie again before he gets to his feet and collects his cane and jacket. Karen’s not surprised by his early departure; Matt was never one to linger at these sorts of things, preferring quieter company to the larger social gatherings hosted by their research facility. She can appreciate his need for space – god knows she needed it at times. Working with Frank Castle was a blessing in that regard, at least.

Matt pauses before he makes his exit, extending a hand out for Karen to shake. She takes it with a smile, and if anything, the strength of his grip is reassuring, solid. "It was nice speaking with you, Karen.”

“You too, Matt. Have a good night.”

She lingers at the bar for another half hour, thinking over Matt’s final words and what he could have meant by them. Frank Castle was complicated, in the way that any person who had suffered great tragedy would be. He bore the weight of that loss everywhere he went, she could see it: in the way certain things and events gave him pause, in the few mentions he made of his wife and family. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like, carrying the brunt of that weight - that pain – every day.

Checking her phone, she comes to a decision and flagging down Josie, she closes out her tab, leaving the bar just as the evening crowd begins to fill up the seats. She walks the short distance to the local Chinese takeaway, picking up their usual, and makes her way back up to the main research facility, flashing her ID badge at the security guards as she swipes for access to the main elevators.

Frank’s exactly where she thought he’d be; in their shared office, sorting through the mess of papers and scribblings on his desk, his work area illuminated by the yellow glare of cheap lighting. He glances up when she walks in, and she can see that the shadows under his eyes are even deeper than usual today, his skin appearing sallow under the fluorescent lights.

His voice is a low murmur when he says, “I thought you went to the bar.”

“I did.” She clears a space on the edge of her own paper-riddled desk – sticky notes were her vice, goddamn it – and hands him a container and a pair of chopsticks. He gives her a strange look but accepts them nonetheless, his brows raising as he opens it and sees the contents. (They’d worked a lot of long nights, it hadn’t taken her long to learn his order.)

“Karen.” She glances up from where she’s setting out her own containers – chicken low mein and egg roll – to find his eyes on her, the faint trace of a smile on his lips. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m 99.99% sure that military research labs do not keep in-house legal representation on payroll for patenting. For the sake of this AU though, let’s pretend they do, okay? (I wanted Matt in a suit, and he wouldn’t be if he came from the lab like everybody else. Jeans + shirt combo ftw!)


End file.
